A Short Romance of Idealists - rev1
by TheRealLonelyPencil
Summary: Just a small idea for a romance I had. Hopefully the formatting works this time.


The library was silent, as always. Sunlight streamed through a high window, illuminating a large worn table at which a couple of people sat. One of them, a pale young man, sat beside a young woman as she gazed down at the large heavy book on the history of native tribes that lay open before her, studying intently.

"This issue is a lot more complicated than I thought", she said softly. "I knew these tribes were dying out fast, but I had no clue of just how dramatic the problem was."

"Well, colonization didn't help, and it feels like a lot of those big corporations are trying more and more to encroach on the resources that these tribes need to survive", the young man whispered back. "Laying gas pipelines and oil derricks, increasing fishing and hunting for import markets, it all adds up."

She sighed quietly, closed the book, and reached for another from the stack beside her. "Yes, that's all true", she replied, flipping to a random page on the history of colonization, "but I just don't see how it will help this issue. We can't go back in time and stop colonists from slaughtering natives. We need a modern solution, and quick."

"Yeah, but it's still a good idea to remember how a problem started when trying to think of a solution, even if the cultural context is different now." He gently squeezed her hand and stroked her ochre skin with his thumb. She stiffened, surprised by the tender gesture, then relaxed after a moment.

"I know", she sighs. "I just really want to figure out some way to help them. The system has been set against me and my tribe since the colonists first landed here, and now that I have access to these kinds of tools, I feel like I have to do something to help." She turned to him. "I just don't know what to do", she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

He reaches and gently wipes the tear away. "I know you do. That's why I came here with you." He reaches beside himself and hands her yet another book. "I figured I would try and find out a way to help through modern means, so I went and grabbed this."

She looked at the book, then back at him quizically. "'Political Movements Through the 20th Century'? Come on, dude, you know I'm failing social studies."

"Yeah, and that's why I take such good notes for you", he chuckles. "But, this isn't homework. I figured this book would help because it details a ton of times where people had to solve problems like the one your tribe is facing. Civil rights movements, protests, all those things that have helped disadvantaged people to forward themselves in society."

She looked back down at the book. "You honestly think this will help?"

He nodded silently.

She sighed and began to read. He turned and began to study another text, this time on political reform. For a time, they studied silently, only pausibg to exchange what they learned or to point out an interesting passage.

After a couple hours, the sun had begun to drop, and the table was now illuminated by fluorescent lights. The young woman groaned and leaned back in her chair. "Gah, this is so boring!", she groaned.

The young man laughed. "Yeah, it's a lot of bureaucracy at times. Super dry."

An elderly woman approached the two. "Library's closing soon, folks. You'd best start putting things away." The two nodded and began to stack the books, the young man keeping one open to a passage that particularly interested him. They made for the shelves and began to return each book to its respective place. As the young woman returned the penultimate book to its shelf, she sighed and began to cry. The young man softly squeezed her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I just don't understand any of this stuff, and these issues feel so big, and I'm just one person..." she sobbed.

"I know, but a lot of big changes have been made in history because one person wanted to do what's right."

"Yeah, but I can't organize a protest or appeal to Congress or anything like that, nobody would listen."

"That's when you have to be loud enough to make them listen"

"But how?", she asked.

He turned the book he was carrying to her and pointed to a passage about a young girl who had been traveling the world and hosting rallies to protest climate change. "You may not be able to hold rallies, but you could definitely write an open letter to the government or some organization. I know you're good at that."

She looked at him. "Yeah, but I've only ever written stories. I've never tried my hand at something big and important like this."

"Then I could help you write it. I'd be happy to proofread or offer advice or whatever you need."

Her eyes widened. "You'd help me? With something like this? But it's so big and so important, it's scary..."

"You bet it is. I'm scared too, to be honest. But this issue is so big and so important, that we have to do something, no matter how scared we are. It's better than remaining silent. So yeah, I'm gonna do whatever I can to help you."

She gazed at him, surprised into silence, then threw her arms around him and pressed her lips deeply against his. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and returned her passion, his heart pounding at the sudden and unexpected affection. He had been unsure for a while, but finally knew that the young altruistic woman returned his feelings.

The librarian peeked around the corner to tell them it was closing time, and saw their passionate exchange. She chuckled quietly to herself, and decided to remain open for maybe a few more minutes, so the young couple could have their moment of love and self-discovery in peace.


End file.
